


A Stranger to Himself

by Mareel



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comfort, Established Relationship, Love, M/M, Memory Alteration, Post-Season 4, Time Travel, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareel/pseuds/Mareel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rediscovering his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stranger to Himself

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place on _Enterprise_ sometime after Season 4, following an undercover mission into Earth's past. Jonathan and Malcolm have an established relationship. It is a followup to the Western genre stories [The Stranger](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2242923) and [No Stranger to Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2297849). It is Jonathan's voice.

__________________________________________________

 

Malcolm looks a little lost. More than a little, truth be told. 

As the door to our quarters slides open, he’s sitting on the bed. Porthos' head is resting on his knee and Malcolm is slowing stroking a hand across his back. Since his visit to Sickbay upon our return from his mission to Earth’s past, he’s no longer wearing his Old West clothing but he isn’t wearing a uniform either. His black leather cowboy boots are tucked neatly under the foot of the bed, a mute signal that he isn’t quite ready to let go of that part of who he is. 

Phlox told me that Malcolm’s memory blur would take some time to clear, but he should have full recall within a few days. I hadn’t realized it would take so long… I wish I could have warned him. 

“Malcolm… how are you feeling? I went looking for you in Sickbay, but Phlox said you’d left. You told him you’d never much cared for Sickbay and didn’t think you needed to stay there. I told Phlox that sounded like the Malcolm I knew and loved, so I hoped it meant you were recovering well.” 

He smiles as he looks up at me. Thank god he remembered me… _us_ … at least. I don’t know how I would have persuaded him to come back to our own time with me otherwise. He can be stubborn, but he trusted me. Now I feel like I’ve let him down. 

“As well as can be expected, according to Doctor Phlox. He offered to call you or to have someone show me to my quarters, but I told him I knew the way. And here I am. At least I know where I live.”

His smile wavers a little and I sit down on the bed next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I need to apologize, Malcolm. I should have been there with you when you recovered consciousness. But Phlox told me it would be a few hours. And I really thought he would be able to completely unblock the memory blur more quickly. This must be unsettling for you.”

He leans into my side, resting his head against my chest. “I don’t know who I am here in this world. Except your partner… I know that much. But the doctor offered me a uniform and I didn’t think I should be wearing it yet… not knowing what it means.”

I lean my cheek against his dark hair, inhaling deeply. God, I’ve missed him. “You look fine to me. I’ve always liked that shirt. And the rest will come back.” It has to come back. It’s not right for him to be trapped between worlds like this, a stranger to himself.

Porthos whimpers for someone to pet him again. “Porthos remembers you, Malcolm. You’re one of his two best friends.”

I can feel him chuckle. “He expected me to know where the treats were. I had to look in a couple of places, but I found something for him.” He goes quiet for a moment, and then continues. “I’ve glad we have a dog. Not something I’d expect on a starship. But then I didn’t expect to find a double bed and clothes that fit me in what must be the captain’s quarters.”

I take his hand and squeeze it tightly before lifting it to my lips to kiss his fingertips. “These are _our_ quarters. We’ve been together for many years, and long ago gave up the pretense of maintaining separate cabins. The crew knows about us. Starfleet knows. We’re a package deal – I don’t want to be without you at my side. I need you too much – professionally as well as personally.”

He raises his eyes to me, but they are full of questions. “How can I be of any use to you if I don’t even know what my position entails? I’m feeling adrift here… When I was a Marshal back in Kansas, my mission and responsibilities were clear. Now?” He shrugs. “Now I don’t know… “

“You’re my tactical officer, and you’re in charge of the armoury and ship’s security. You have a very capable staff that has been covering those functions, but honestly – I can’t wait to have you back. The bridge feels empty without you. I look over toward your station, and seeing someone else there makes me feel like I’m not on my own ship.”

“Maybe we could pay a visit to the bridge and armoury. It might help jog my memory.”

I nod agreement. “That’s a good idea. Let’s do it at shift-change so it will seem like you’re coming on-duty. Do you want to put on a uniform?”

He hesitates, but finally comes to a decision. “Yes, I think I do. I might be a better actor than I give myself credit for being. So I might as well look the part.”

“We have a few hours to relax before that then. I’m going to change into something comfortable for now.” Glancing around, I notice my old red Stanford sweatshirt lying on the pillow. I don’t recall leaving it out. It’s not something I want Porthos to play with – he can be a little hard on t-shirts. 

Malcolm has followed my gaze. “I left that there, Jonathan. I’m sorry to have disturbed your things… I was looking for something familiar.”

“And did you find anything?” 

I hope I don’t sound as worried as I feel right now. How could I ever have agreed to let Malcolm take that mission for Daniels? How could I have allowed Phlox to blur any of his memory? The risk now seems immense. But once Malcolm learned of the mission, nothing would dissuade him from volunteering for it. When we first came together, we promised one another that our personal relationship wouldn’t get in the way of mission-critical assignments, so I owed it to him to let him go. That doesn’t keep me from kicking myself. 

He reaches for the sweatshirt and buries his face in it for a long moment. “Yes, I did. This is you… it smells like you… it feels like you. When I got back here, I lay down on the bed and just held it for awhile, sorting myself out. It helped with that.”

I kiss him gently. “I’m glad it helped. There’s nothing wrong with your memory of us, Malcolm. Trust that the rest will return soon.”

He nods, handing me the sweatshirt. “Would you put it on, please?”

I’m happy to oblige, unzipping my uniform and letting it fall to the floor. Before I can get my arms into the sweatshirt, Malcolm reaches up to caress my chest. His hand is warm and his touch stirs every feeling I have for him. 

Smiling, I ask, “Are you sure? I might just end up taking it off again.” 

He nods. “Yes, I want to see you in it. I can always help you out of it, you know.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

He moves to stand very close to me, slipping his arms around my waist, his hands already slipping under the shirt to move across my back. I barely catch his murmured reply.

“Just hold me.”

__________________________________________________

 

Later, dressed again in the Stanford shirt and some soft workout pants, I settle onto the bed, pulling Malcolm close as he sits between my bent knees, leaning back against my chest. Wrapping him in my arms, I find his hands and enfold them in mine. The fire that flared between us has ebbed into a warmth that contents me, for now, just to have him close. 

I think we both fell asleep that way. When I wake, it’s nearly time for gamma shift. I kiss Malcolm awake and ask if he still wants to go to the bridge.

“I do. I need to get back into my world.” He gestures around the cabin with his hand. “This is a big part of it, but it’s not the whole thing. Let’s get dressed and go to work.”

Watching him put on his uniform, his motions are the same as they always were – the way he adjusts his collar, sets the zip just so, makes sure his hair is smoothed. Nothing would suggest that he didn’t do the same thing yesterday morning. 

“You look fine, Malcolm. How does it feel?”

After a last look in the mirror, he turns to face me. “Familiar, but not quite. It feels comfortable – the clothes, not the role… not that yet.”

“Let’s go take a walkabout then.” I make sure Porthos has his water bowl filled, and palm open the door. “After you, Commander.”

His armoury crew greets him enthusiastically, welcoming him back. As he said, he’s a good actor, not letting on that he doesn’t remember everything. Taking his cues from what his lieutenant is telling him, he nods, remarking that it is good that they are working on the missile recoil problem. He does notice something apparently out of place and silently shifts a torpedo housing to a more stable position in the sling where it was resting, probably awaiting repairs.

I smile to myself, not wanting to draw attention to it, but enormously grateful that he had noticed something like that and instinctively made the adjustment.

As we continue our walking tour around the ship, his steps become visibly more confident. I save the Bridge for last, and let him precede me as we exit the turbolift.  
I’m prepared to walk with him to the Tactical station, but it’s unnecessary. He heads there directly and glances over at me as I sit down in the captain’s chair. I meet his eyes and nod, not even trying to suppress a smile. 

His voice is soft but confident. “Lieutenant Mendez, I’ll relieve you at Tactical for this shift. They could use another hand in the armoury.”

I give him a moment to settle in at the console. Obviously something has come back to him. I turn, as I have turned to him so often on this voyage we’re on together. And his eyes lock with mine, grey and clear and steady. And he smiles. 

He’s home.

__________________________________________________

 


End file.
